


Light the Match (Start a Fire)

by WakeUpDreaming



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Banter, F/M, Fluff, I don't know how to tag this, Oral Sex, Romance, Smut, post 2x16, smluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 07:45:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5959285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakeUpDreaming/pseuds/WakeUpDreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a couple of blanks that needed to be filled at the end of Fractured, such as what Toby and Happy were up to before that knock on the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light the Match (Start a Fire)

**Author's Note:**

> If you're a part of the show and you're reading this then *tips hat and walks into the void*
> 
> Written to Wildfire, Young God, Pony, Partition, A Girl Like You, and then Wildfire again. And then, in two awkward and unexpected moments, One Direction and the Pacific Rim theme, because shuffle can be cruel.

Happy leaves the garage first, but she’s still waiting in the driveway when Toby walks out of the door.

“So,” she says, kicking her boot against some of the rocks scattered on the pavement. The crumbling city reminds her of the devastation they’d narrowly avoided earlier, and the dark circles under Toby’s eyes remind her of why everything hurts just a little more than usual. “Saved the world again.”

He smiles at her. “Thought after that you’d be at home,” he says, and there’s something vulnerable in his voice, something enough to shake Happy.

“Are you okay?” she asks. “You look – something’s off.”

He looks over his shoulder. “I just get scared.”

"Of what?"

He looks at her. "Of losing you."

The moment is fraught, something in his words worrying Happy more than she wants to admit. She knows Walter is in the garage, knows they’ve talked about this, knows they’ve been trying to take this slow.

She knows they haven’t said anything to anyone because they’re both scared to rush in before either of them are ready. If they tell people, if they open whatever they have to the outside world before they even have a name for it, they could lose it all.

But right now. There’s no doubt in her mind. She’s ready to quit going slowly.

Happy reaches out and pulls Toby toward her, and she falls back against her truck when Toby flattens against her, his body lining up with hers. It feels so right and yet somehow she’s aching for more. For the first time the kiss doesn’t quell anything in her. It just makes her burn brighter for him.

His hands go to her hair, threading through the ponytail and holding her to him, like Toby’s convinced she’s going to disappear on him.

When they finally break apart, he’s looking at her with an expression so desperate and fragile that Happy thinks that maybe he’s thinking what she is.

“Stay with me tonight,” he asks, looking like he’s looking at his world. “I don’t want to think about losing you ever again.”

Happy sighs, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Seriously?” Toby asks.

“No, I’m fucking with you,” Happy says, and she realizes she’s been trailing her fingertips up and down his back this whole time. “Of course seriously. Don’t wreck the moment.”

He laughs, but they both jump when they hear a door close.

“I’ll meet you there,” she says, and the last kiss is lingering.

Her skin is crawling with a need to feel his hands on her again as she drives home, music blaring on the radio to force her to stay present, eyes on the road.

She’s not sure what the night entails, so she throws a bag together. She showers, desperate to wash off the scent of burnt rubber and destruction before she sees him again. When she leaves the bathroom, she adds a toothbrush to her bag. One that can stay, if it has to. Because it feels right.

She rings the doorbell forty-five minutes after they said goodbye. It’s been an eternity almost, and the anticipation is only building as she waits for him to open the door.

He’s changed into pajamas, which makes her feel better about the haphazard outfit she threw on.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs.

And Happy isn’t sure if he knows she heard him, but she's glad she did.

He takes her bag without a word and lets her in, and the apartment is different than she’d remembered, somehow. Same ugly curtains, same bizarre trinkets lining shelves and windowsills, but it feels different.

Happy’s not sure how to start, what to say, what to do, so she leans against the couch. But it’s not quite pressed up against the wall, so it shifts under her and she immediately loses her balance. She’s ready to crash on the floor and brace for a bruise, but Toby reaches out and catches her before she can fall.

“Yeah, the couch isn’t very steady,” he says, getting her back on her feet. “It’s good for other things, though.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Oh, that’s how you’re going to do the romance thing?” Happy laughs. “What happened to Mr. Better Chance of a Nuclear Apocalypse?”

“He’s been replaced by the love machine,” Toby replies, and it’s so ridiculous that Happy starts laughing before she leans in to kiss him.

The laughter dissipates into the air quickly as she drops her jacket to the ground. Toby’s hands settle on her lower back as he kisses her gently. It’s almost too gentle.

“You okay?” she asks, and she can’t resist running her hand through his curly hair.

He nods, eyes flickering from her eyes to her lips. “I just can’t believe you’re here,” he replies.

Happy considers it for a moment. “Well,” she says. “Here I am.” She quirks her lip into half a smile. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Oh, that’s how it’s going to go?” Toby asks, and there’s that fire in his eyes that she can’t get enough of. “You know, I had wine and snacks planned, and you just came here to, and I quote, hanky panky?”

“Oh, my god,” Happy says, laughing. “Are you going to shut up about that? Ever?”

Toby shrugs. “Probably not.”

Happy licks her lips. “I’ve got a few better ideas of what you could do with your mouth.”

Toby’s expression changes in an instant. He leans toward her and kisses her with something behind it Happy’s never felt before. It doesn’t take long before she’s too hot, antsy, desperate.

She moans against his lips as she walks them backward to the couch, and Toby spins them until she’s falling onto his lap, his hands on her thighs.

Happy’s a little nervous, and she thinks it’s more than just a first-time-with-a-new-person thing. She’s had plenty of those. This feels different.

It’s the first time with Toby, and that might mean the first time of the rest of her life.

The thought startles her and she pulls away from Toby.

“Maybe we should have a glass of wine,” she says, swallowing hard.

He smiles at her, and how does he always look so open. “It’s red. Because you made fun of me that one time I suggested that sparkling dry wine.”

“That’s not wine, it’s juice,” Happy argues. “Just like that Arbor Mist bullshit you’ve tried to make me drink before.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, now you’re a wine snob,” he says, running his hands up and down her thighs and, fuck, if he wants to distract her, this is working.

She tries to concentrate – he’s teasing her about wine, probably – but she’s just focused on the way his hands are practically burning through the fabric of her leggings.

“You okay?” Toby asks.

Happy nods. “Just – a little overwhelmed.”

She regrets saying it the moment the words leave her lips, because Toby lets go of her, his hands falling to the sides. It’s endearing and wonderful how much he wants to keep her comfortable, with that little smile on his lips that makes her feel at home, but she’s stuck between wanting to slow to a stop and wanting to get naked right now.

Happy decides on the second one, grabbing Toby’s face in her hands and kissing him with all she’s got. This time it’s Toby who moans, and the noise is enough to flood a universe of possibility through her mind. She’s a scientist at heart, and she decides to try all different variables to draw that moan from his lips again. She licks into his mouth, and she likes the way the grip on her thighs grows stronger until he slides his hands to her ass. She gasps into his mouth, unable to keep from rocking forward. She can feel him against her hip, and it’s another thrill through her body that he’s pretty close to ready and all they’ve done is kiss.

She slides her hands up the front of his shirt and he raises his arms. She pulls it off and takes a second to look, just look, at him.

“Keep boxing,” she decides. “I know you suck at it, but the black eye was kind of impressive and so,” she runs her hands over his biceps, “are these.”

“You want to really get turned on?” he asks, that half-joking smile on his lips. “I operated a crane today.”

Happy laughs. And deliberately doesn’t mention that, yeah. It kind of is hot.

She’s a little annoyed that she finds it this hot, but what can she do.

His fingertips play up to the hem of her shirt, and he looks at her questioningly. She nods and he pulls the shirt off over her head, and just looks at her. Happy is aware that she just did this to him less than a minute before, but the movement makes her feel surprisingly vulnerable. Even though it’s only a second, she feels a strange need to cover up.

Toby responds to her nervousness by pressing a soft kiss to her collarbone. “Like I said earlier,” he mutters against her skin, “you’re beautiful.”

Happy smiles. And no longer does she feel vulnerable.

She reaches behind her and unclasps her bra, letting the straps fall off her shoulders as Toby watches.

“Wow,” he says, a little distracted.

“Once you said that all gluteus maxima look the same to you,” Happy says, too tempted to tease. "Does that go for everything?"

“Yeah, that was a lie,” Toby says. “Yours is in a whole different class. And, uh," he looks deliberately down, "same with,” he gestures aimlessly. “I can’t think.”

“Good,” Happy says, “then stop thinking and start doing something.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She’s not expecting it, but the way Toby’s lips wrap around her nipple sends sparks behind her eyes. His hands are hot on her skin, and she nearly jumps when he runs a thumb over her other nipple.

“Okay, don’t stop,” she insists.

Toby laughs as he drags his lips between her breasts. “Demanding,” he murmurs, kissing along her skin. “I kind of like this side of you.”

She threads her fingers though his hair as if to hold him to her, and she’s burning for him already, desperate to feel him inside her, against her.

She wants him more than anything else right now.

Happy pulls him away, accidentally pulling a little at his hair, but when he moans at it she keeps it in the back of her mind.

“Bedroom,” she says, “now.”

He smiles at her. “I like the sound of that.”

She’s about to stand, but Toby just wraps an arm under her ass and another behind her back and stands up.

“Damn,” she says, “that was impressive.”

He shrugs, smug grin on his lips. “I’ve been working out.”

“Oh, don't even.” She kisses him again, and they collapse on the bed. Toby lines himself up against her, and this is close to what she wants, so close, but she wants more. Her hands are shaking with anticipation as she pulls her leggings and underwear down, going for Toby’s jeans in the next move.

“Hold on,” Toby says, and his voice is so soft and so serious that Happy’s hands drop to the side.

“What?” she asks, and if she’s about to be rejected, her entire world might crumble underneath her.

“Can I –” Toby runs his hands down the bare skin of her thighs and it’s about enough to make Happy lose her mind. “Can I go down on you?”

Happy blinks at the shift in tone. “Really?”

Toby nods. “If you don’t want to, I –”

“No, I want to,” Happy says. “Just – I’ve never had a guy ask to.”

His lips turn up. “Well, I’m not all the other guys, now, am I?” There’s something a little endearingly possessive in the words and Happy likes it, likes that he wants to taste her and that he asked without Happy having to dart around it.

He kisses her once with a fervor, like he’s trying to prove his skills to her, and it sends a chill down her spine to think of what he can do with that mouth.

He takes a painfully long time to kiss down her collarbone, skimming fingertips and lips over her breasts, down to pepper kisses across her tummy and then to her hip bones.

“If you’re trying to get me into this,” Happy says, trying desperately not to squirm, “you don’t need to try all that hard. I’m already there.”

Toby laughs, and she can feel the laugh against the skin of her thigh. He presses his lips there gently, and she spreads her thighs without even thinking about it.

He dances his lips from thigh to thigh, slowly edging closer to where Happy wants him, and, god, if he doesn’t get his mouth on her soon she’s going to lose it.

And then he presses his lips against her center, and Happy lets out the most desperate whine she’s ever heard in her life.

He laughs again, and even that is enough to make her buck her hips.

“Slow your roll, baby,” Toby says. In another moment, she’d say something about the nickname, but right now everything’s so close to being so good that she’s not willing to do anything to jeopardize it.

“Come on,” she practically whispers.

“As you wish.” The first stroke of his tongue around her clit triggers that desperate whine again, and she’s got to focus on holding her hips down to keep from losing her mind.

“Looks like,” she chokes back a moan as works his mouth against her, “your mouth is good for something after all.”

He looks up at her and, fuck, she’s never going to want to lose the memory of Toby smiling from between her legs. “Told you.”

“Well, go back,” Happy says, nudging at him with her foot. "Talking is pointless right now. You've got better things to do."

He slides his hands along her thighs and then settles them on her shoulders. The shift in position lets him have better access to her and more control, which means that when Happy can’t help but roll her hips he’s ready for her. He takes wordless direction ridiculously well, repeating actions when she cries out and before long she’s got nothing but a string of nonsense words mixed in with Toby’s name coming out of her mouth, trying to encourage him to do exactly whatever he’s doing, because she’s so fucking close that she could die if she doesn’t come in the next few minutes.

It’s a combination of a particular twist of his tongue and crook of his fingers that does it, has Happy moaning his name a little louder than strictly necessary as she grabs at his hair.

He licks her through the orgasm until she nudges him with her knee, and he lets her legs down gently.

“God,” Happy says after a few moments of sated incredulity, “damn.”

“Like I said,” Toby says, wiping his mouth. “I’m good at this.” He laughs. “Also, the way you moaned my name is going to be in my memory for the rest of my life.” He looks over at her. "That was amazing."

Happy laughs and pushes at his shoulder. “Shut up.”

“No, it really was,” he stares at her for a moment, and she realizes he's being serious, “god, you’re sexy.”

“Oh, I’ve upgraded to sexy,” Happy says, reaching for his jeans, “that’s good to hear.”

“Yep,” Toby says, and he rolls onto his back as Happy pulls his jeans down his hips. “Also, this is the greatest view I’ve ever had.”

Happy laughs. “Well get used to it.”

He throws his pants and underwear somewhere in the room.

“Did you just land your jeans on a hanger?” Happy asks. “Because that’s impressive.”

Toby shrugs. “What can I say? I’ve got skills.”

“You got a condom?” Happy asks. “Because I may be on the pill, but I’m terrible at taking it on time.”

Toby rolls over and opens a drawer. “It’s glow in the dark.”

“What are you, sixteen?” Happy asks.

Toby shrugs. “No. When I was sixteen I hadn’t even kissed a girl yet.”

“Really?” Happy asks, oddly charmed.

He shrugs. “Not many chances with the ladies when you’re sixteen and they’re twenty-two.”

She leans in and kisses him. “You’re adorable.”

“You get sexy and I get adorable?” Toby asks, sitting up. “I just went down on you for half an hour, and all I get is adorable.”

“That was half an hour?” Happy asks.

Toby nods. “Like I said. I’m good.”

Happy shrugs. “You’re not wrong.”

They kiss for a few minutes, and Happy almost can’t handle the intimacy of being this close to someone for so long without clothes. In the past her experiences had been half-thought out in the back of cars, in someone else’s bedroom while their parents were out, quickies with strangers at the bar she worked at.

This holds more behind it, and she’s somehow both satisfied and desperate for more.

She takes the condom from Toby and opens it.

“Impatient,” he laughs against her lips.

“Yeah, well,” she kisses him again, “you went down on me for half an hour. I’ve got to prove my skills to you.”

He rolls on the condom, and it’s a few seconds of psyching herself up that this is real before she kisses him again. She pulls him on top of her, because for the first time, she doesn’t feel like she needs to be in control. It's not a battle with Toby, and it's not a desperate move to try and feel something before she goes numb again.

She's feeling everything and it's all because of Toby, and it's blowing her mind.

When Toby moves inside her, Happy thinks her entire world view has changed. Nobody’s ever looked at her like this before, taken their time with her before.

She thinks, perhaps, nobody’s loved her like Toby does before.

“Oh, god,” he moans, strangled and desperate. He braces a hand against the headboard, which is promising in Happy’s opinion, and the other one rests on her waist.

“No, I’m Happy, but thanks for playing,” she quips.

Toby laughs and drops his head against her collarbone, and she’s never had laughter during sex. She’s never spoken much, either, though others have.

“You’re damn perfect,” Toby mutters, and that’s when he starts moving.

It’s not long before they’ve got a rhythm down, and Happy’s got to say, she’s impressed. For all that Toby brags, he’s not wrong about being good in bed. It’s almost annoying, though, that he’s right about something else.

“You got neighbors?” Happy asks as the headboard starts making some noise against the wall.

“Yeah?” Toby replies. “Why?”

She hooks a leg around his and flips them so she’s on top, rolling her hips agonizingly slowly, but the way Toby’s eyes practically roll back in his head is worth it. “Figured we might give them a break,” she says. "We're a little loud."

"That's not going to change all that much," Toby replies, proving his point with Happy's little gasp when he runs his hands along her sides.

"Well, the headboard will quiet down even if we don't," Happy says.

They change to a slower, more tantalizing pace, and Happy feels her release building before she expects it. She grabs at Toby’s hands, and, without realizing, it practically pins him to the bed.

She moves to let go, but Toby holds her hands there.

He grins at her. “Yeah, you can stay.”

She nods, grinning back. “Good to know.”

But it’s not long after that before she’s itching to come, and she can tell Toby’s close by the way his thrusts grow erratic. She lets go of his hands and leans down to kiss him. He sits up to meet her, and the change in position damn near makes Happy see stars.

Toby slides a hand between them and, with barely a touch, Happy’s coming and two thrusts and a shout of her name later, Toby follows.

They stay face to face, so damn close while they just breathe each other in, for long enough that Happy feels the sweat cooling on her shoulders and she has to laugh.

“Okay,” she says, collapsing against the sheets, “that was fantastic.”

“Really?” Toby asks. “Don’t stroke my ego too much.”

“I think I did more than stroke your ego,” she replies.

He looks over at her. “Innuendo from you,” he shakes his head, “I never would have expected that, Happy Quinn.”

“You should have,” she says. She leans in to kiss him, just because she wants to be close again. This is so different than anything else before it, and she wonders maybe, just maybe, if this is what it’s like to be with someone you might love.

Toby breaks away and kisses her shoulder a few times, up her collarbone and to her lips again.

“How are you good at everything?” he asks, sounding awestruck. “There’s got to be something you’re bad at.”

Happy laughs. “I failed a geography bee in seventh grade.”

“You did?” he asks, sounding excited.

She shrugs. “Sort of. I got kicked out of it for intentionally mispronouncing every state capital.”

Toby snorts. “You just keep on surprising me.”

She grins at him. “I could say the same about you.”

“Hey, I’ve got skills,” he insists. “As you definitely,” he kisses her, “agreed with that.”

She pulls him back to her, kissing him deeply enough to show him just how much she agreed with him. “I never said you weren’t good,” she mutters. "Closer to great, annoyingly enough."

“That’s close enough to, ‘Toby, you absolute beast, take me to paradise.’ I’ll take it.”

She swats him in the arm and he pulls her on top of him, his hands tracing patterns on the bare skin of her back. “You’re amazing,” he murmurs. “Not just all this – I mean, that was amazing, don’t get me wrong – but just,” his hands steady on her shoulders, warm and stable. “Everything about you.”

She can tell he’s trying not to say the words they both know he feels, and she appreciates it. As much as she cares about him, she’s not ready to hear something so finite, so firm.

Maybe soon though, she decides. But not tonight.

She kisses him to say she understands, and they tangle themselves in sheets and blankets until Happy’s leg is half pinned to Toby’s and they get stuck.

“You’re the engineer,” Toby says, as they roll themselves out of the mess, “you should have seen this coming.”

“You dumbass,” Happy says, but eventually they untangle. “What are your thoughts on a shower?”

“Do I get to wash your hair?” he asks, looking positively gleeful.

She raises an eyebrow. “Sure?”

“I,” he says, standing and catching her arm, “am great at washing hair.”

“Oh, good, you have one talent,” Happy quips, and instead of a comeback he kisses her, which she supposes is a comeback in its own right.

They stumble into the water, hands all over each other, and when Toby starts washing her hair Happy can’t hold back a moan.

“Okay,” she admits, “you’re good at this.”

Toby hums in agreement, kissing her shoulder. “It’s like a scalp massage from the angels, I’ve been told.”

“By who?” Happy laughs.

“By me,” Toby counters. “I get to wash my own hair all the time.”

She’d respond, but she feels so nice and so warm that words seem pointless.

They spend more time than they need kissing under the spray of water, Toby’s hands working miracles on knots Happy didn’t even know were in her back, and they’re stumbling back into his bedroom, sleepy and warm, after long enough that the water started running cold.

“What time is it?” Happy asks, yawning.

Toby pulls up his phone. “Ten thirty,” he replies.

“Damn,” Happy says. “Three hours. That’s got to be a record.”

“What can I say,” Toby says, wrapping his arms around her as she falls into bed next to him. “I warned you I was quiet the paramour.”

“How’s patting yourself on the back feel?” she asks, but she hates to admit he’s right. Even with more than an hour showering and talking, that’s still more time with one person this intimately that Happy has had in her life.

It doesn’t scare her.

She’s dozing off before she knows it, feeling better than she has since that night in the tent, and she’s beginning to admit that she sleeps better when his arms are around her.

But it doesn’t take long for the surreal serenity to break.

She’s not sure how much later it is, but she hears an obnoxious tapping and can’t place it.

“Is somebody knocking?” Toby murmurs, and it takes Happy a minute to remember: she’s in his bed, next to him. And that tapping is someone knocking on his door.

She drops her head against the pillow. “I think so,” she says, unable to hide a grin. “Don’t really care, though.”

Toby blinks himself awake. “Hold on. Nobody knocks. That might be important.”

“More important than this?” Happy asks, gesturing to the silhouette of her body under his sheets. She watches his eyes drag along until he reaches her face.

“That was just unfair,” he says firmly.

The kiss he gives her before he leaves bed reminds her of their night so far and it’s all she can do not to grab him back into bed.

He pulls on an old Harvard tee shirt, something that clings to his back and arms in a way she appreciates, and a pair of boxers he grabs from the floor.

She recognizes the voice before long, and grabs a robe hanging over a desk chair. She knows Walter isn’t the greatest at realizing social situations, so if he busts in the room, she wants to at least not be naked.

The robe is huge on her, but warm, and it smells like Toby. She peeks around the door, and, thank god, Toby’s got the door mostly closed.

And then she hears him say it.

She can’t fight her smile, because he wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it. He’s not placating Walter – he’s distracting him. 

Though Happy would appreciate it if Toby would stop it with that absurd inside joke where he says he’s “having luck with the ponies” when he means he’s going out with her.

Walter finally leaves, and Happy watches as Toby closes the door.

“Really, Doc? You’ve really never been happier?”

“God as my witness,” Toby says, and the look he’s giving her could quite possibly render her speechless, “I’m not going to do anything to ruin this.”

The kiss starts out hesitant, like Toby’s not sure if she’s going to believe his promise, but she won’t let him doubt this anymore. Just like she won’t doubt herself.

She slides her arms around his neck, a thrill sparking across her spine as she feels the muscles she’d memorized just a few hours before.

She tries to remember what it was like to kiss him before she’d felt his body against her, before she let herself feel, finally feel.

That feeling of opening up would have been enough to take her down only a year ago.

But here’s Toby and he’s safe and steady in front of her, promising things that no one else has ever thought of before.

A fire burns into her veins, replacing her blood with an all-encompassing need to just feel him again, prove it wasn’t one time. To prove that she can feel that moment with him over and over again.

To prove he’s hers.

She grabs at the hem of his shirt, and he laughs against her lips.

“Somebody’s impatient,” he says, and she can’t help but shiver at the way his kisses spread from her lips up her cheekbones to land on her forehead.

“Hey, we’ve got a lot of time to make up for,” she says.

He reaches for the robe – his robe, she reminds herself, she’s wearing his robe – and takes an agonizingly slow time to pull the tie. She’s burning with anticipation as if they haven’t already done this already, as if they haven’t already had moment after moment together tonight. As if he hadn’t already promised her without words that she was it.

“You’re taking too long, Doc,” she says, a little breathless. “Trying to protect my virtue or whatever?”

He laughs, catching her lips with his as he pushes the robe off her shoulders. She should feel vulnerable, naked as she stands there in his living room with nothing but his eyes on her, but instead she feels at home.

“Pretty sure I took care of that a couple hours ago,” he replies quietly, and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes linger on her.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Happy says, and she pulls at his shirt again. He takes the hint, raising his arms to the ceiling.

Light from the city streams into the room like another caress as they fall into each other again, and Happy has the brief thought that maybe someone could see them from the street.

 _Let them_ , she decides, because after all this time, she’s hiding from nothing.

Not anymore.


End file.
